Respite - Part 11

Private Nick Nelson walked to the barracks for the first time in the last few weeks. Even before he reached the door, he could hear the commotion inside. The laughter and the din of rowdy troopers reminded him of the joviality that occurs every time a big enough group was off duty. Nelson felt a hint of melancholy within him and pushed open the door to the large room.

“Well lookie here, someone's come back to us!” yelled Private Lonnie Tanner over the noise. She ran to him giving him a big hug.

“So how is life on the outside Nicky?”

“Oh stop it, it's only been a few weeks!” Nick instantly eased back to being one of the gang.

From the corner of his eye he noticed Private Adam Bonde looking at him. The look on his face was somewhere between disinterest and annoyance. He and Nick had served on a tour sometime ago but they had hardly spoken since they were posted on Starlight.

“So are you back? As in, back, back?” asked Lonnie jumping up and throwing an arm around his shoulders. She led him to the middle of the room where the rest of the troopers were, some wrestling, some having a beer while others were just laughing and playfully jostling each other.

“I'm just here to get a few things from my locker.”

“You fucking little perv!” Lonnie punched him in the arm. “We've missed your pretty little ass here. Of course our admiration for your hiney can't be compared to the adoration Lieutenant Colfax gives you, we still wanna see more of it here. Am I right guys?”

The troopers cheered and some reached out to slap his buttocks, more than a few tried to slap Lonnie's. Nick just laughed. He didn't know how else to react. He walked to his bunker and opened his footlocker.

“Nick, come have a drink with us!” yelled another trooper.

Nick just gave him the thumbs up without looking back.

He dug through his things, looking for his sensor pad. He found out from Carter that his equipment was compatible with the ship's system and he wanted to draw out an action plan to show Commander Stone at the meeting.

“I heard you made quite an impression at the briefing today.”

Nick looked over his shoulder. It was Adam Bonde.

“Yeah, just a few thoughts, we've gotta see if that plan can actually work,” Nick pulled out the pad and dislodged the things on top of it causing his stuff to fall out from his locker. He stood up and Adam was squarely in his face.

Nelson took a half step back. He realized that Adam just had a towel flimsily wrapped his waist. Adam's skin was still moist from a shower and Nelson could smell the scent of soap on him. When he looked back up at Adam, Nelson saw something in his eyes for the first time since he walked in. Anger.

“You may think that our rules don't mean a fucking thing when we're out here, but most of us here still do. We take pride in our way of life, in what it means being a trooper,” sneered Adam. “When you prance around letting everyone fuck that ass of yours, you're pissing on all that we stand for. And personally, it makes me sick.”

“Get away from my face,” Nelson didn't let his face show the anger that was surging inside him. He stared the down the trooper and when he didn't back off, he felt his hands clench into a fist. The room went quiet, everyone just watched.

“You know, there's an old word they use for people like you. You're a fucking fa-”

Adam never had the chance to finish his insult. Nelson slugged him in the face. He felt his fist come in contact with the soft cartilage of Adam's nose and felt it crack. Adam, caught off guard, stumbled back but quickly regained his footing. He shifted his stance and punched Nick in the stomach and when he fell forward Adam hit him with an undercut to his chin. Nick tasted blood when he fell back on his locker. He spun around and lunged at Adam catching him by the throat. Adam freed himself by grabbing his arm, turning and landed a hard punch on the side of Nelson's face. He felt the impact on his eye and cheekbones. Nelson fell to the floor and when Adam moved in he kicked out his legs and pushed himself to his feet. Adam got up quickly as well and charged at Nelson, his fist balled up. When he was close enough, Adam threw a punch. Nick managed to block the attack with his forearm, then using the opening, he landed another blow on Adam's chin.

Nick Nelson never felt this angry, he was trained to to engage any situation with a clear and calm head. But somehow, he was just filled with fury this time. Nelson was about to continue the fight when he felt arms grab at him. The troopers in the room tried to hold both of them apart. Lonnie was yelling at both of them, but Nelson couldn't hear a word she was saying.

Bonde was bleeding from his broken nose and from a cut on his lower lip. Nick licked his own split lip and it he felt pain. He spat out the blood and pulled against the restraints of his fellow troopers.

“Let go of me!” yelled Nelson and he managed to free himself. He took one glaring look at Adam Bonde and walked out of the barracks.

…


The craft glowed like a jewel in the darkness. The exterior lights of the barge beamed from all sides of the metallic ship like the wrath of some ancient pagan god showing its might.

Lieutenant John Harrow approached the ship carefully, the sand crunching under his boot. The ship looked abandoned. He recalled regulation stipulated that the engines and all exterior lights are to be shut down or turned off upon landing, unless during a rescue mission or an incursion. It was too quiet to be either. He tapped on his scarab to signal the ship, but got no response. He made a quick dash towards the starboard of the barge and pressed himself up against its steel walls. He worried that his crewmates were unconscious. He worried that they could be hurt, or worse.

Harrow visually scanned the surroundings of the craft, following its outer walls. The lights from the ship made any stealth approach impossible, but he still did as he was trained. He turned on his blaster and waited for sound of a soft whine signaling that it was fully charged. In a swift motion Harrow ducked his head into the open hatch and confirmed that the ship was deserted. He climbed in and headed to the cockpit. He tried to soothe the goosebumps under the environment suit by rubbing his hand over his arm, but it didn't help.  

“Harrow to landing party, come in,” he tried again and paused to wait for a response. Perhaps they were still within communication range.

Nothing.

Harrow tapped on the controls, shutting down the engines but kept the other systems online. With a wave of his hand he called up a holoscreen, he scanned through the read out to check the status of the craft. Everything looked fine. In fact, he saw that the onboard computer was being monitored remotely. He sat himself down in the navigator's chair and sent out a distress signal to Starlight. Before he left the cockpit he reached under the console and retrieved an energy rifle. Harrow tried not to listen to the sound of his heart pounding or the heavy breathing when he stepped out of the craft and into the darkness.

With the engines off, the terrain was dead silent. This was the spot where Landrey was attacked, Harrow realized even without checking his instruments. He recognized the rock formations and the short flat rocks Landrey had climbed up earlier. Some ten feet away he saw the tattered environmental suits and helmets. A sinking feeling developed in his gut.

“John.”

Startled, Harrow spun around and tried to determine where the voice came from.

“Landrey?” Harrow's visor was fogging up, he blew at it to clear the condensation.“Where are you Marcus?” he shouted, trying to ignore the sound of his heart pounding and the adrenalin coursing through his body. “Come on buddy, I can't see you outside the light.”

He could hear footsteps, more than one set and close by. Only one set approached, the rest just stayed beyond the glow radius of the craft. “It's okay Marcus, everything's fine, we'll sort this whole thing out.” More footsteps. Harrow pointed his blaster and positioned his finger on the trigger of the energy rifle. The energy levels on his wrist device was low, tracking Landrey had used up quite a bit of its resources. Harrow knew that he had a good two shots, maybe three, coupled with the rifle he should have enough, that is, if he didn't miss. That is, if he wanted to kill all his crew mates.

“John.”

Harrow turned around and Landrey was standing there, three feet away. His hair was gone, the bumps on his forehead were more pronounced and his eyes were fully red. Harrow stumbled back, his weapon trained on the boy.

“What are you doing?” asked Landrey, his voice calm.

“What's happening to you? Where are the others?” shouted Harrow.

“John, calm down. The rest are here too. We're not going to harm you,” Landrey said holding out his hand. A glow emanated from elliptical slit on his forehead. “Unless you shoot me of course,” he said with a smile and a wink.

...